Acrophobia
by DetectiveLion
Summary: Takes place after Fight Fighters. How did Stan and Mabel, with her new fear of heights, get down from the water tower that day? Mabel/Stan bonding.


**I no own Gravity Falls. But I can't wait for the next episode. -twitches-**

**Acrophobia**

_An extreme or irrational fear of heights_

Well, this sucked. Mabel had gone into Sweater Town, and showed no signs of coming back out. To be honest, Stan didn't really know much about Sweater Town. He knew it was basically his great niece's "happy place." A bit like how he counted the money he had scammed- ahem, _earned_- when he was feeling down. He had seen her go to the place multiple times since she had arrived in the beginning of June, each trip accompanied by an uncharacteristic bout of depression or fear. The first was thanks to Gideon Gleeful. The little brat had tried to force Mabel into dating him despite her obvious discomfort (Of course, Stan conveniently forgot about his own part in that). Back then, Dipper had been there to lead her back out. It seemed his great nephew knew the way to his sister's happy place. In fact, he was the _only_ one with the directions out of Sweater Town.

"Hey, uh, kid." She twitched slightly, but showed no other signs of hearing him speak. Stan gritted his teeth. _Why_ had his nephew sent these kids to stay with him? The man knew fully well that his uncle was no good with kids. Actually, he just wasn't a people-person in general. Oh, he was a good showman, he knew that. Perhaps even something of a magician. But that was different. Stan wasn't communicating the tourists, he was tricking them. It was ridiculously easy to fool the visitors out of their money. Playing the con artist and actually holding a conversation were two incredibly different things.

He closed his eyes before valiantly making a second attempt. "You can't just stay up here forever," he tried.

"Yes I can," Mabel mumbled back. Her voice was muffled by the thick material of her sweater.

Okay, so reasoning wasn't going to work. He sighed before growling in an impatient voice, "Look, kid, you're the one who brought us up here. It's getting dark, now _come on._" The fingers poking out of her sleeves clenched around her hair. Mabel shook her head with an incoherent protest.

A new idea occurred to the old con artist. Smirking confidently, he stepped back, purposely making the wood creak. "Okay then. I guess I'll just leave you up here." He stepped down onto the ladder. His great niece didn't move. Growing worried, he called, "I'm leaving now. Yup! _No_ regrets. Hasta la Vista! Sayonara! Adios! Um… Aw, come on, kid! I'm running out of languages here!"

"I'm not leaving," came the stubborn reply.

Stan twitched. The sun was almost down now, and zero progress had been made. Then something occurred to him. It was a low blow, even for him, but… "Well, then, I guess you don't care if you miss breakfast tomorrow. We're having bacon! And fresh, too. Thanks for getting that porker, kid. What did you call him?" He lifted his eyebrows in mock contemplation. "Wiggles?"

_That_ got a reaction from the girl. Her head popped right up before she lunged at him and yelled, "Don't!" Then her eyes went wide. She gripped the rail, and Stan swore he saw her face go completely white before she shoved herself back against the water tank. She pressed herself into the metal as though trying to sink right through. A high pitched whine emitted from her throat fearfully. Her eyes were so tightly shut he doubted even a specks of light could get through.

Stan swore, too quietly for the girl to hear. His usual supply of good luck seemed to be running dry. "Come on, Mabel-Angelo. Am I gonna have to _drag_ you-?" He stopped short. That was it! Not the dragging, of course. that could seriously hurt her, and Stan refused to sink that low. No matter what he said, he did care for the brats… slightly. *coughcough*

He pulled himself back up onto the wooden platform. The old man crouched and- yeesh, that's hurt! Yep, he definitely wasn't getting any younger. "Alright, kiddo. Get on." As he glanced over his shoulder, Stan saw Mabel carefully peek her eyes open. They grew confused as she saw him. He tapped a foot. "C'mon, c'mon, time's-a wastin'."

He felt his great-niece awkwardly clamber onto his back. When he straightened, he was carrying the girl in classic piggy-back position. Mabel was a twelve year old, but she was a _tiny_ twelve year old. Both of the twins were. If they were anything like their father, they'd be hitting their growth spurts in a couple of years. But for the time being, she wasn't much heavier than a child.

Stan began to descend the ladder, one hand firmly holding his great niece in place. He wasn't about to let her fall. She in turn had a death grip around his neck, nearly choking him in her terror. All the same, Stan remained silent. Soon his feet had touched down safely on the ground. He stepped back from the ladder, letting out a low whistle as he saw the damage done to the area. Those kids had really done a number on the place. Then Mabel shifted, reminding him of her presence. "Think you can stand?" he asked.

"N-not really," Mabel squeaked. It was then that he realized she was trembling violently. Her face had been pressed into his shoulder the entire time and her grip was only just beginning to relax.

Stan hesitated. "…Alright," he decided. "But you owe me- big time." He had a reputation to keep after all.

Mabel let out a small laugh as he began to walk. "Whatever you say, Grunkle Stan."

They weren't even halfway to the Mystery Shack before night had completely fallen. The warm summer air breezes past, ruffling the tree leaves eerily. Stan gave them a nervous glance. Then he snorted. He was getting paranoid. Those kids were seriously getting to him.

Soon he heard Mabel's breathing grow deep and even. Her head drooped against his shoulder, arms loosely looped around his neck. It was rather sweet- Oh, gross! She was _drooling!_

Suddenly beams of light were cast into his vision. Stan paused, staring. "Mabel!" a boy was calling. "Hey, Mabel!" It was Dipper.

"Stan! Hey- old man!" Wendy's voice joined in. He was cutting her pay for that remark.

"Kids!" He called back. "We're over here!" The light grew brighter as footsteps joined the nighttime noises. Dipper and Wendy burst through the trees, looking out of breath. The boy's face was covered in bruises and he had a nasty black eye. Huh. Looks like the kid got in a fight after all.

…Eh, he'd deal with it later.

"Mabel!" Dipper yelled. He darted forward again. "Uh, I can take her," he offered, holding his arms out.

"Aw, it's alright, I got her," Stan told him. At Dipper's incredulous look, he couldn't resist a smirk. "Besides, it's not like you could hold her with those noodle-arms of yours." A blush spread across the boy's face as he sent a mortified glance Wendy's way. She only grinned and punched his shoulder lightly.

"Looks like the gang's all here," she noted.

Then Dipper sent a curious glance at his Grunkle. "By the way, where were you? It's been hours since we got rid of Rumble."

Stan cast a glance at his great niece, still sleeping peacefully… and drooling. "Eh… We just got lost."

**Hello! My name's DetectiveLion, though I prefer to just be called Lion. Well, this is my first Gravity Falls fic… what d'ya think? **


End file.
